


when your life is a work of art

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's slightly jealous when Zayn kisses Niall on the cheek during their interview, but Zayn's determined to prove that Liam's the only one for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when your life is a work of art

Zayn knows he’s stupid sometimes. He makes dumb decisions, and then later regrets them so much, and this time around, it’s no exception.

See, when they’d gone and done that interview, the one where they were locked in some room that looked like a mental institution, to answer questions that resonated from a plasma screen tv, Zayn really only had one thing on his mind – the need to answer these questions and get the fuck out of there.

It’s not to say that he doesn’t like answering fan questions, but sometimes they’re tricky little things. There are topics he’s not allowed to answer, things he’s got to throw shade to, and stuff he’s needs to flat out lie about because that is what their world consist of, unfortunately.

So when the question popped up (the very pointless question because all of them were male and liked it that way) asking if one of them were a girl and which band member they’d date, Zayn took one for the team and answered it as quickly as possible so none of the other guys were put on the spot.

Thing is though, Niall had been sitting right there and it was the quickest answer he could come up with in those few short seconds. Only, he really,  _really_  didn’t have to kiss his best mate on the cheek, but he had and now he’s sure he’s made a huge mistake.

It’s not like any of them aren’t touchy feely. They all are, and it’s not a problem, but there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, Zayn knows, because sometimes, jealousy sparks and that’s always a bitch to deal with, which is why he’s currently standing in front of Liam asking him if he’s okay.

“Liam,” Zayn starts, “please talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say, Zayn. I said I was fine.” Liam gives him an encouraging smile, but Zayn can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes, not by a long shot and he feels like shit now because Liam, his boyfriend, isn’t happy and Zayn hates it when Liam’s not happy.

“Alright, Liam. Whatever you say.”

And that’s the wrong kind of response to have as well, but Zayn’s given up on asking Liam because he knows he’s only going to get one answer. His best bet, as of now, is to leave it alone and find some other way to relieve Liam of his jealousy.

And he knows exactly what he’ll need to do.

x.x.x.x

It’s late, and Zayn’s not entirely sure where Liam is. Tonight he’d intended on proving to Liam that only he mattered, that regardless of how stupid Zayn’s actions are, Liam’s the only one for him and what he and Niall have only borders on friendship and nothing else.

Zayn believes Liam’s hanging out with Harry, but he’d rather not go and bother them simply because he knows that Liam’s still upset, no matter how much he tries to deny it. And it wouldn’t be right for him to be overly straightforward with his need to show Liam just how much he only wants him.

He’s worked all day on this little plan of his. Zayn avoided spending his time off with the lads in order to lock himself away in his hotel room to prepare this surprise, and he’s hoping Liam will come around soon.

“Zayn?”

His name is called and a knock sounds at the door. He realizes it’s still locked from the inside and there’s a possibility that someone’s trying to get in without a keycard.

“Hold on,” he calls out. He grabs his gift, the one he’d spent all day working on, and sets it against the wall, away from the front of the hotel door so that it’s hidden from plain sight.

He walks over, opening the door to find Liam on the other side. His eyes look a little wet, and his hair isn’t exactly as kempt as it always is. Zayn knows he’s probably been running his fingers through it, pulling at the roots because he’s stressed and doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t have all the answers like he thinks he should.

“Can I come in?” the other boy asks, and Zayn steps aside to let him in.

When he crosses the threshold, Zayn shuts the door and follows Liam further into the room until Liam turns around with a look of hurt on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I-I lied, okay? And it’s not like you have a  _thing_  with Niall, I know that, but-”

He stops, and Liam’s hand flies to the back of his neck, rubbing at the skin and trying to find the words he’s been building up the courage to say because they’re in a relationship, and they need to be honest with one another and nothing good will come out of lying about his feelings.

“Liam, I want to show you something.”

Zayn moves then, walking past Liam and over to the square object leaning up against the wall. He’d had to ask Paul to buy supplies for him and even then, he wasn’t sure if the older man would be able to follow through with it, but he had and Zayn's grateful.

Liam stares at him though, eyes boring into Zayn's back, watching curiously as he turns his attention back on Liam.

It’s a picture frame of sorts, more of a canvas, but Liam’s not sure. The image sprawled onto the paper, if there is one, is on the other side, facing Zayn so he can’t see what it is, and as he looks up at Zayn’s face, there’s hesitation there.

“I made this for you.” He fidgets with the object in his hands, running his palm over the edge of the painting. “I’m not even sure this’ll make up for anything, but I wanted to show you.”

Zayn moves over to the bed in the room and lays down the canvas on the mattress.

Liam only furrows his brow before moving  in closer to see what it is that Zayn wants to show him at a time like this, but as he gets closer and his eyes take in what’s before him, his mouth goes slack; his eyes widen slightly, and he’s left with a sense of wonderment.

“What’s this?”

Which is really a stupid question to be asking because Liam knows what it is; it’s a drawing of him done in pencil. It’s detailed beyond imaginable, and it’s of an old memory that only he and Zayn shared.

Liam, in the picture, is slightly younger than he is now. He’s got a mass of curly hair and he’s sitting at a table, leaned over it with a pen in his hand. There’s a sheet of paper in front of him, and it looks like he’s trying to draw something, and while Liam can faintly remember what he’d been doing that day, it hits him exactly what this is.

It’s Zayn’s view of him. The angle is directly from Zayn’s eyes, not from a camera or some video that they’d been recording for their video diaries all those months ago.

No, it’s a drawing that can only be done by someone who’s been able to see that exact view from where they were sitting, and as Liam looks away from the sketch and over to Zayn, their eyes meet because Zayn’s been staring at Liam this entire time, watching as his facial expressions changed from one array of emotions to another.

“I’ve always had this imagine in my head,” Zayn begins. “It’s a moment I didn’t want to share with anyone else because it belonged to me. I didn’t have to share it with fans or the media; it wasn’t something that could ever be released because it was  _mine_.” He swallows and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I remember it, clear as day. You were trying so hard to show me you could draw something, anything really because you’d been fascinated by my little sketches I’d done. And I’ll never forget the moment when I looked over at you and you were so concentrated, like you had something to prove to me regardless of what I said, and when I did, when I looked up to see you so lost in thought, I knew.”

Zayn’s eyes fall back onto the canvas. He moves his arm, resting his fingers along the side of it before running them down the frame, feeling the memory as if it were all too real again.

“Knew what?” Liam whispers. He’s never heard this before from Zayn, and while they’ve both been open with one another about a lot of things, Liam senses that this means a lot more than he’ll ever be prepared for.

Zayn turns his gaze back on Liam, looking him in the eyes, and without a single stutter in his voice, he speaks.

“That I loved you.”

Liam’s heart clenches in his chest and he feels incredibly, utterly, stupid for being upset with Zayn about the interview, because Liam knows and should’ve known then that nothing anyone could ever do would turn Zayn away from him. They belong to one another; that’s just how it works, and Liam licks his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Zayn shrugs. “There never was a good enough moment to tell you, and when we got together I didn’t think it was that important because well... we were together and that’s all that mattered.”

“But it does matter, Zayn. And I’m sorry for being foolish.”

Zayn moves, removing his hand from his artwork and resting it under Liam’s chin in order to bring his gaze back up to his. “Don’t be. Sometimes all we need is a little reassurance every now and then, yeah?”

And then Zayn’s hand is cupping Liam’s cheek and bringing him in for a kiss that is slow and a little messy, but full of want and desire.

It’s not too long after that that they find themselves in bed, clothes already off, Zayn more than prepared with a good amount of lube, condom wrapped tightly around Liam before he pushes in, completely swallowed by Zayn’s heat, and he lets out a moan, one a little too filthy and too good because it feels amazing to be slotted up against Zayn, so close to him, in him and making him pant for more.

“Liam,” Zayn sighs. He’s full and he loves the feeling of Liam being the only one who’s able to make him feel this way because there isn’t anyone else but Liam.

Liam moves, pulling out of Zayn just enough to move his hips and go right back in, building up friction and heat and pleasure for Zayn who only opens his mouth with wasted words that never find the right moment to form and release themselves out into the open. But then Liam does it again and again, moving his body over Zayn, feeling the way that Zayn moves his hips along with Liam’s until they’ve got a decent pace going, enough for both of them to feel something amazing building within their bodies.

Liam reaches down between them, grasping Zayn in his hand which only causes the other boy to buck up and moan at the contact. He closes his hand around Zayn’s dick, moving it up and down, while watching as Zayn’s eyes open with pupils round and full of contentment, love and need.

“Liam, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers between little wisps of air because he can’t concentrate completely, not with Liam all over him, his scent engulfing his senses enough to cause his brain to go blank with the exception of the mantra  _it feels so good_  on his mind.

And Liam leans down, running his tongue over Zayn’s bottom lip before dragging his own over sweat-slicked skin, to the juncture of Zayn’s neck, biting and nipping and whispering sweet little things into his skin in order to make him go insane.

“Come on, baby. I want you to cum for me.”

Liam can feel his own release building, but he needs Zayn to do so before him because there’s something there that wants him to know that only Liam can do this to Zayn, only Liam can pull this kind of response from the other male. He can undo Zayn like a pretty little package wrapped in a bow just with the touch of his fingers and the words that flow from his mouth, and he loves it, just as much as he can tell that Zayn loves it when he sucks in a small part of Zayn’s neck, licking the skin and creating a small little mark he’s sure will take awhile to clear up.

Zayn comes then, a moan of pleasure escaping past his lips, filling the room and Liam’s hand with cum. His body clenches, tightening up as his orgasm takes a hold of him completely, and while doing so, it becomes impossibly taut for Liam, just enough so that he’s following Zayn over, spilling into the other boy, his hips jerking and becoming sloppy until he’s relishing in his post-coital high.

Liam doesn’t remove himself just yet; instead he trails his lips back up to Zayn’s where he dives in for one more taste of him, before pulling out of his boyfriend.

He lays by Zayn’s side, pulling the other boy in close, but Zayn only grimaces. “I need a shower.”

Liam shakes his head, “I’m not done.”

“But I’m sweaty and sti-”

“I’m not done with you yet,” Liam repeats, and it only causes Zayn to raise an eyebrow when he sees the growing smirk on Liam’s face.

It occurs to Zayn that this could be a slight possessive thing, the need for Liam to leave marks on his body after he’d kissed Niall on the cheek, and while they’ve never really explored that side of their relationship, Zayn’s pretty sure this is a good time to start.

“I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be covered in these by tomorrow,” Zayn comments, running his fingers over the side of his neck where he can feel how the skin, the places where Liam’s left little love bites on him, is slightly different than the rest.

Liam's only response is a grin before he's leaning in for a kiss that eventually leads to their second round of make up sex.


End file.
